And of Crutches Fashioned Like Masks
by Madisonne
Summary: A story of two people lost (in more than the physical sense) and how they help each other take off the masks they use to hide their true selves (? I'm not sure how to preveiw this without giving it away!!! Just read! : ) ) R for language and implied th


And Of Crutches Fashioned Like Masks

By: Madisonne

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, waff, 's'bout all I can think of...

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does NOT belong to me... (Damn, damn, damn...) No infringement on the rights of the owners of said anime intended. Don't sue me, suing isn't nice. As for the fic, don't steal it! Criticism accepted (feed me feed-back at Fire_Elf_Rei@hotmail.com!!!), flames laughed at.

Dedication: For Tre'vail, for reasons only you and I know. For the bond we have, the pain we've shared, and for your incredible love. But most important of all, for your inexorable patience with me as you made me recognize my own personal mask and strive to help me remove the mental crutch self-imposed so long ago. May you find some peace at last, gods know you deserve it.

__

Italics - Thoughts

* * * * * - Scene/time change

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Damn fucking woods... Damn fucking clothes... I'm being baked fucking alive... Damn fucking itchy pack...1" He grumbled as he hopped over a log in his path. "Ow, damnit!" He winced as a lock of his hair was caught by a stray branch. Sitting down on the log, he attempted to disentangle himself. "Damn fucking hair..." He cursed repeatedly while teasing at the strands. He was finally able to free himself, slouching on the log, his abused hair in his hand. 

His hand strayed to his pack. "No, you can brush your goddamn hair later. Just get to safety. Or someplace..." He admonished himself, standing up, pulling up his heavy pack as he moved. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light reflected off of what must have been metal. "What the hell?"

Leaving his pack behind, he scampered over to where the light was radiating from, ignoring the twigs as they clutched at his already battered and bloodied clothing. Sure enough, a large chunk of rather new-looking metal was lying on the floor of the forest. He frowned, puzzling over this new find. _'Surely another suit didn't crash around here...' _He scanned the forest, looking for survivors or other scraps. His eyes fell on a charred looking figure limply lying half on, half off a log. 

Making his way over to the figure, he gasped. Blood was trickling from the form, obstructing his clear view of the person. Throwing his abused jacket over the figure, he carried the unconscious body back to his pack. Managing to get his pack over his shoulders and repositioning the form in his arms, he started to stumble onwards, stopping only at an echoed sound. His pulse raced in his ears as he stood stark still. There it was again! It was a stream, it had to be. He placed his burden carefully down beside his pack and scrambled onto one of the close rocks, looking down to see a river running near him. 

Smiling to himself, he returned to his pack and the figure. "Hey, were staying here, if that's okay." He caught himself waiting for a response. "Stupid fool," He said, mockingly. "He can't hear you." 

Shaking his head at himself, he began to set up camp with the limited supplies in his pack. An hour later saw a tent set up and a fire started outside of it. 

He turned to the still-unconscious form, contemplating what to do. "Well my friend, I think it's best I get you cleaned up before I bandage any of those wounds of yours..." He pulled out a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo from his pack. Hoisting the figure over his shoulder, he set off to the river to clean off his 'find'.

* * * * *

He fumed as he dragged the body back up the embankment to the tent. First the stress of crashing, and now this... This insult! "It's fucking bad enough that I'm stuck out here in the fucking woods, but to be stuck out here with one of them, it's just... Just... Dishonourable!" 

_'You don't really mind. You just want to think you do.'_

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!!" He complained, blowing his drying bangs out of the way. 

There was no response.

"Well, fuck, I'm stuck with him now. Might as well get him a new set of clothes and fix up his wounds..." 

He deposited his load on a blanket in the tent, leaving for a minute to grab the clothes and first aid kits. He ducked back into the tent, fuming over the task before him. "Which is easier? Clothes or first aid first... Hmmm..." Looking down at his burden, he decided that clothes were going to be an impediment if he put them on his 'patient' first. 

He opened the sealed pack with clothes in it first, though, seeking clothes for himself as the ones he was wearing at the time of the crash were understandably singed. Luckily, the clothes had been packed for a pack meant for two, so he was relieved to find that both of them would be able to have full sets. _'A good thing, especially with who he is, and the relationship between your people and his.' _He proceeded to put on the white loose cotton shorts and the white long-sleeve shirt he'd gotten out, wrapping his hair in a towel as he went. Once he was properly dressed, he turned back to his uninvited guest. 

Pulling out supplies, he began to dress the wounds of the man in front of him. First the leg, an angry gash from knee-cap to ankle, and the bone underneath fractured. He quickly disinfected the appendage, then splinted the whole leg up to mid-thigh. He then turned his attention to the small gashes and lacerations sprinkled over his 'patient's' arms and chest as a result of his fall through the trees earlier that day.

Once completed, he knelt back to admire his handiwork. Shaking his head at himself, he proceeded to dress the man in an outfit rather like his own, only in black and with a tank-top instead of a long-sleeved shirt.

Seeing his tasks completed, he bound up his own injuries. The cut in his thigh, the burn on his back, lacerations in near every imaginable place... 

He sighed and sat back, pulling his knees to his chest. "Who would have thought I'd ever be sitting here in the same tent as someone who'd willingly kill me without a second thought? That I'd help that person?" He snorted. "I must be crazy. Well, I knew that all along. But... Damn..." He shook his head, then headed out of the tent to attempt at making some semblance of food as the sun began to set.

* * * * * 

He made a face to himself after sampling his own cooking. 

_'Damn, I hope he doesn't wake up. Might kill him to have to eat this shit...' _

He poured the sludge out onto the ground. "Well, at least the hot chocolate's good." His half-hearted attempt at salvaging his pride.

_'It's from a fucking mix. You'd have to really work to make that stuff taste bad.'_

"Fuck off." He told his nagging subconscious.

That annoying voice inside his head simply snickered.

He shrugged in response and headed into the tent, checking on the man inside. He saw that everything seemed fine and he sat down on a lump of blankets, holding his mug in his hands to warm them. For a moment, silence reigned, then half-choked moans of pain began to emanate from his 'charge'. Frowning slightly, he stuck his hand into the first aid kit, pulling out a needle.

He crouched beside the man and swabbed off a patch of skin on his arm before injecting the pain-relieving substance into the man's blood-stream. He sat back, thinking on this new development. "You, my friend, are definitely an enigma. You seem to deny yourself of even the expression of pain with your choked back cries of pain. Well, we'll reveal your secrets when you awake. With the help of the drug I just gave you. It'll help you... Loosen up? Sleep now..."

He retreated back to his corner of the tent, mug still clutched in white hands.

* * * * * 

He wasn't sure how he'd been awakened, but now that he was alert, he felt this nagging fear in the back of his head. Frowning, he turned to the man slumbering on the other side of the tent. The man wasn't moving, and seemed a little pale.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he flung himself to the side of his tent-mate. He pressed his fingers to the neck of the man while he bent down over the mouth, trying to distinguish a breath. When both quests proved futile, he straddled the hips of his 'patient', fingers finding the sternum. Taking a second to position his hands, he began compressions. Once he'd reached fifteen, he leaned up to tilt the man's chin back, open his mouth, then blew in two long breaths. He repeated this cycle three more times, then checked for a pulse again. Nothing. So he continued. Fifteen compressions, two breaths. Fifteen compressions, two breaths. Fifteen compressions... 

He stopped in mid-lean to force more air into the lungs of his 'patient' to push back his hair, cursing at it violently. He stretched back over and was about to administer two more breaths when a sudden movement by the body underneath him stopped him in his tracks. 

The man had obviously woken up and had gripped the hair of what he perceived to be his attacker. "Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing?" He asked evenly.

Scrambling back to a crouching position, he managed to get his hair free. "Forgive me, you'd stopped breathing and I needed to..."

The man waved away his explanation. "That brings me to my first question. Who are you?"

He smiled weakly. "You mean you don't recognize me, Heero?"

The pilot jerked at being called so informally by his name by a stranger. He shook his head, no.

The long-haired man smiled apologetically, moving off of his 'patient'. He crossed over to the corner of the tent where he'd deposited his beat-up clothes. Pulling a certain piece of his former costume out of the mess and placing it on himself, he turned back. 

The man jerked back involuntarily. "Zechs." He gasped.

Smiling ironically he nodded his head.

A frown creased the forehead of the injured pilot. "But... Why?"

Zechs settled down next to Heero, taking off his helmet, but keeping it beside him. "Dunno. You needed help, I could give it."

"Hn." 

Zechs could see the cold look Heero's eyes return, the one he was reputed for. "Why do you do that?"

No response.

"Heero?"

"Do what?" He sighed.

"What you just did, push yourself away like that."

No response.

"I think I know why, because I did, and sometimes still do, the same thing."

This time he made a little noise that sounded like a whimper.

"You put up a barrier, a mask, if you will, to shield you from whatever you're afraid of."

Heero sat bolt up-right, his piercing gaze turned on Zechs. "And just what do you presume I'm afraid of?" 

Zechs didn't even flinch in the light of the indignance and the danger of the tone of voice the last had been spoken in. "This." He said, reaching out to touch the jaw of his 'patient'. "Human contact."

The pilot recoiled back, as if bitten.

"You see, just what I meant."

"I'm... I'm not afraid of contact." He had trouble meeting Zech's eyes with that last.

Zechs shook his head in sadness and complete understanding. "Heero, let yourself be free. Just this once. Right here, now. No one's here to scorn or judge you. Here, here is a place where you can drop all masks. Are you willing to do that?"

Heero just closed his eyes, unwilling to meet the challenge.

Gently, he reached over and lifted his 'patient's' chin, prompting him to look at him. "Heero, I can't force you to do this, but... If it will help, just know that I've been through this, and... And if you will throw away your mask, so will I. It's only for this one night. Let yourself heal Heero. And live, like you've never lived before." Zechs dropped his hand back in his lap. "I understand if it hurts. It hurts me... It hurts me each time I take off my mask. But..." He looked back up to lock eyes with the pilot in front of him. "It hurts more to live with it on."

Heero remained silent.

Zechs sighed, closing his eyes and bowing his head.

Silence overcame the tent for a minute, two.

The sound of a muted sniffle made Zechs snap his head back up and his eyes back open. He was just in time to see Heero's hand swipe a tear off of his face. Smiling knowingly, he enveloped the smaller man in his arms, knowing what he was going through, living his own experience again. "Shh, it's okay." He felt the pilot in his arms tremble with sobs. Slowly, he brought a hand up to rub small circles soothingly on his back. "I know. I know." He stifled back his own sob. "I know, more than anyone will every realize..."

"I'm s-scared..." Heero's voice trembled and caught.

"I know. So am I."

He nodded against Zechs' shoulder. "H-how do y-you do t-this?"

"I take off my mask, Heero, even though the pain is excruciating, I take it off because I know that I suffer more with it on."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?" He asked gently.

"W-well, seeing a-as we're t-tech... Tech..."2

"Technically." He provided.

"Technically enemies..."

Zechs laughed lightly. "Trust me."

There was a pause for a moment. "I do."

Zechs smiled and sighed. Pulling away, he looked into the eyes of the pilot across from him. "Are you okay now?"

Heero nodded, swiping at his eyes clumsily.

Zechs laughed quietly, dabbing at the face in front of him with a tissue. "Mask all gone?"

Heero nodded again.

Recalling his end of the bargain, Zechs tossed his helmet to the other side of the tent. "Good."

Heero smiled slightly at the gesture.

Noting the smile with no little pleasure, he stood up. "Well, I attempted at making dinner, but it was... Pretty bad... I think we have some nutrient bars in here, though... That is, if you're hungry?"

Heero nodded emphatically.

"I thought we could talk things out as you ate." He explained as he rifled through the pack, finding his quarry and tossing the tasteless bar to Heero. Remembering the hot chocolate, he left the tent with a promise to return and brought back two steaming mugs. 

Heero smiled appreciatively as he was handed a mug of some sweet smelling stuff. He paused for a second, trying to find a delicate way to ask what he wanted to know, but soon gave up. "What is this stuff?"

"You mean to tell me you've never had hot chocolate?!!"

Heero shook his head, no.

"You have no idea how much you've missed! Oh, you're going to love it!" Zechs watched with delight as his 'patient' took his first sip of hot chocolate. 

"Mmm! That's some good stuff!" He complimented the beverage.

"Told ya so!"

Heero stuck his tongue out at him.

Zechs smiled even brighter, if that was even possible at this point. 

"Ne, Zechs?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"You were right. About that relief thing. I feel... So indescribably right just now. I don't want to have to put on that mask ever again."

Zechs nodded. "You won't have to. Not if you don't make yourself do it."

"Anou, Zechs? Would you tell me something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Tell me about... The first time you took off your mask. I mean, I understand if it's something you don't want to share..."

Zechs leaned over and placed a finger onto the lips of the pilot next to him. "Shh, it's fine... Let's just get settled in for the night first, okay?"

Heero nodded.

Zechs bit his lip. "You see, there's just one small problem..."

"What's that?"

"The pack... The pack I got out of my machine only carried bedding for one..." He blushed faint red.

Heero laughed. "Don't worry about it. It'll be more warm this way."

Zechs smiled softly at the sound of Heero laughing. "Are you sure that's okay?"

He nodded. "Of course, silly!"3

"Good." Zechs pulled out the sleeping bag and the accompanying blankets and laid them out in a sort of cocoon. He slid in between the covers, motioning for Heero to do the same. 

With his head resting on Zechs' out-flung arm, Heero looked back up at the older pilot. "You were going to tell me about your mask...?"

"Oh yes, I remember. It was... About three months ago. I was called into Treize's office at about three in the morning. I managed to get there, yawning and stumbling the entire way. He invited me to sit down and he sat there for the longest time, just looking at me..."

* * * * * [Flash-back] * * * * *

Zechs re-crossed his legs, his discomfort under the scrutinizing gaze of his superior showing in his eyes, posture, and breathing.

Treize abruptly turned away from his subordinate, sighing deeply.

"Sir?"

Treize didn't reply.

"Sir?"

Treize held up his hand for silence.

Zechs shifted uncomfortably.

"Zechs."

His name uttered softly jerked him to attention.

"I have only one question to ask you. Why do you wear that mask? What do you fear so greatly that it pressures you from hiding your true self?"

Zechs started to protest.

"Shh, no words, no answers now. Just think about it Zechs. You're dismissed."

* * * * * [End Flash-back] * * * * *

"I managed, barely, to stumble back to my room, where I thought about what had transpired. Did I truly wear that mask for convenience, or was it a crutch, a way to avoid my problems? I began to see that all the mask had truly been was a cleverly disguised crutch, a way to float through life without truly living. Disgusted with myself, I tore off that mask. Not just that physical one, but the emotional one.

"Gods it hurt. It hurt to see what I was, what I could, no, should have been." Zechs ended abruptly. Then, just as abruptly, he began again. "But after that time, I started to break that mask, to wear it down. 

"Heero, I won't lie to you. I won't tell you that you're never going to use that mask again because I simply don't know. I can only hope that, for your sake, you can destroy your mask. I let mine stay for too long and I am punished by forever having to fight with it. Don't let that happen to you." His eyes watered and he blinked fiercely, trying to dispel the unwanted moisture.

Heero smiled softly. "Looks like your mask is coming back." Commenting on the attempts to stop the tears now rolling down his face. He reached out, gently, soothingly, and scrubbed the tears from the face of the man beside him. He hesitated for a minute, then leaned over to brush his lips across Zechs'. "Thank you." He whispered. "Thank you for freeing me from myself."

Zechs stopped breathing after the gentle touch on his lips, unbelieving. 

Heero laughed softly. "Physical evidence my mask's gone." Seeing the slightly panicked look in the eyes of the man beside him, he frowned a little. "Are you okay, did I do something wrong?"

Zechs thought about it, then shook his head ever so slightly. "Looks like my mask's trying to come back."

Heero paused for a second, thinking about his next move. Deciding on what his soul wanted, he raised himself up on one arm. "How 'bout I make sure that nasty little mask can't sneak back up on you, hm?"

Realizing the true meaning behind Heero's words, Zechs breath caught in his throat. Shaking his head to clear it, he managed to choke out those three little words on the tip of his tongue, "Yes, oh yes..."

Heero smirked evilly, aware of the effect he was having on Zechs.

"You little sadist. Are you just going to smirk or are you going to make good on your promise?" Zechs pouted.

"Christ, don't look at me like that!" Heero moaned, his head getting light.

"What, like this?" Zechs made the saddest little puppy dog face he could muster.

"Oh, you asked for it!" Heero threw himself on the pilot, hands roaming, mouth kissing, devouring.

"Gods of m'fathers..." Zechs managed to gasp, reveling at the feel and taste of the pilot above him. 

"What, you want me to stop?" Heero asked, mock-hurt in his eyes.

"I... I swear, if you fucking stop now... I swear I will fucking kill you..." Zechs panted.

Heero grinned as Zechs cursed twice. "Well, it's good that we're thinking along the same wave-length, 'cause I'd had every intention of fucking you."

Zechs laughed breathily, still panting.

"Senseless, while I'm at it."

Zechs, obviously spurred into motion at that last, drew his former enemy back down to him. "Sou-sounds good to me..."

* * * * * 

It was hours later, and the two lay entangled in one another's arms, totally drained. A warm and fuzzy feeling was mutually shared.

"Zechs?" Heero asked, his voice a little on the rough side.

"Hn?"

"Can we do this again? Often?"

"Don't you think the others will start to get suspicious after a while?" He allowed his hand to trace lazy patterns on his lover's bare chest.

"Yeah, you're probably rig- Oh gods, screw the others, we're doing this as often as possible."

"Screw the others, hm? Sounds interesting..." Zechs jibed sleepily.

Heero elbowed him in the side. "You hentai."

"No more so'n you."

Heero thought about that last. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Aa..."

* * * * * 

"The map says he should be around here somewhere..."

"Guys! I've found something!" 

"Duo, what is it?" Quatre asked, hoping against hope that his fellow pilot was okay.

"A tent!"

Quatre pushed past Duo and the others to approach the tent quietly. Silently, he drew open the tent-flaps. 

Nothing in his whole life could have prepared him for what he saw. Heero, as naked as the day he was born, lying in the arms of an equally naked Zechs, a strand of Zechs' hair clutched possessively in his hand. Both were looking innocent in their slumber, but Quatre could tell from the look of their tent that they were no innocents, at least not after the night they'd just spent together. 

He ducked back out of the tent, blushing furiously. "He's safe and he'll be back soon." He began to walk away.

"Wait, what's he doing in there?" Duo asked.

"Just leave him alone."

"Why?"

Quatre sighed and grabbed Duo's braid, dragging him away from the tent by it. "You'll understand... Someday."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Author's Notes:

1 I apologize profusely for the amount of cursing in this little fic o' mine!

Rei-chan: Yeah, riiiight.

Shut up and get back to recruiting more extras for my next fic! Unless you WANT me to write you in that lemon I was thinking of!

Rei-chan: *Turns bright red, scampers off*

Heh, and to think, I don't even WRITE lemons...

2 Heero does the same thing I do when I'm upset or emotional or just plain flustered, stutters and forgets words. Tre'vail, sweet-heart, if you're reading this, thanks for pointing this out and for helping me when I've gotten hysteric on you, especially since you don't make fun of me when I do it!

Duo: There's a reason why we make fun of you. It's fucking hilarious!  
*Eyes glow evilly* One more word outta you and it's back to that fic I was thinking about with you, Relena, and Treize as lovers!

Duo: *Meeps*Hides*Whispers to Quatre* Why's she so pissy?  
Quatre: Hmm? Oh, she's ill.

Duo: Oh no...

Quatre: *Over-laps* And she's on those nice drugs that the hospital uses...

Duo: *Whimpers* Gods help us all!

3 *Laughs maniacally* I don't know what it is, but the thought of Heero saying that just cracks me up!

Heero: Omae...

Zechs4: *Smothers the rest of the sentence by closing his hand around Heero's mouth* I wouldn't do that if I were you!

Heero: *Eyes get evil glint and he drags Zechs off to a handy-dandy, near-by closet*

4 Aw! Their names have the same number of letters in them!

Duo: She's crazy, she's completely nuts. She's gone bonkers!

*Lighting lances from her finger-tips* WHAT WAS THAT?!!

Duo: *Turns unearthly shade of white, turns to the readers, this next in "Blair Witch" style* I'm so sorry! I should have never dragged them into this! She's coming and she'll never give up till she's completely humiliated us! 

*Grinning evilly* And then, the fun began! Oh Quuuatre! It's time for your lime with Treize!

Closet w/ Heero and Zechs in it: Thump thump!


End file.
